


One Day

by Justley



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Desus fluff, M/M, Uncle Daryl, just something sweet, uncle jesus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 16:36:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11444793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justley/pseuds/Justley
Summary: Daryl is out on a hunt and missing his new sidekick, Jesus has been out on a supply run and is missing his new boyfriend.





	One Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jlm121](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jlm121/gifts).



> Hey Desus fans! 
> 
> Been a while since I wrote this pairing and it was interesting to get back into it again. 
> 
> This little fic is actually a gift from 1lostone to Jlm121.
> 
> So 1lostone has been beta'ing a monster fic for me over in the HP fandom out of the kindness of her heart, she mentioned that Jlm121 happened to enjoy some of my Desus fics in the past and asked whether I'd consider writing them again as a gift. 
> 
> So this is a gift from me to lost to say thank you for all her help, a gift from lost to Jlm121 and also a gift from me to Jlm121 for taking the time to read something i've written and enjoying it enough to mention me :D
> 
> I hope you enjoy this lil bit of utter fluff! 
> 
>  
> 
> (and thank you again 1lostone for being awesome enough to agree to beta this for me too :D)

One day. 

Twenty four hours. That’s what Daryl promised Rick right before he left with his bow slung low at his waist and a pack strapped high across his chest. Twenty four hours beyond the walls by himself to cool his temper and try like hell to track something worth dragging back to Alexandria with him. Canned corn and spam can drive a guy mad after all, but that’s nothing compared to the constant yammering and whining some of the women back home can carry on with. 

Between Tara’s quiet tears when she thinks everyone’s asleep and Rick and Michonne going at it like fucking opossums in heat, Daryl had just needed to cut loose for a bit, get out past the walls and find five minutes of damned peace and quiet. 

Twenty four hours he’d promised with a curt nod and a glance down to the pavement, but now he’s coming up on at least hour thirty and Rick’s gonna throw a fit when he gets back. Carol’ll probably take her piece too but none of them really know what it’s like to try and track a buck when you’ve got a bunch of the dead jumping out at every turn. 

Still, his pack is crammed with a brace of rabbits, a few plump squirrels and a couple of ducks he’d stumbled on by accident. Daryl  _ had _ come across a deer trail, but it’d led right past an old trailer park teeming with walkers and even  _ he _ isn’t stupid enough to go stomping through a herd that size without backup. 

If he’d just waited another day or so he’d probably have Jesus dogging his heels. Big smile and clever hands always ready with his gun or knife, or even his damned ninja moves. It’s funny, Daryl thinks, how he thinks of the guy as two separate people. Out here, fighting and scavenging, he’s Jesus; skilled apocalypse ninja and community intermediary. Back home, when they’re alone he’s just Paul, highly infuriating but damned fucking amazing guy with nice lips that feel so good against his own. Paul is pretty much the best thing to have happened to Daryl since finding his family after the turn. Ok, it’d taken a while and a fucktonne of pestering from the guy, but he’d finally broken past Daryl’s carefully constructed walls and wormed his way into Daryl's heart. Jesus though, he’s like the best sidekick out here a guy can ask for, excluding Rick, and Daryl should’ve waited for him to come hunting. But he hadn’t wanted to wait, he’d wanted out. Now. Still, he curses himself on losing the deer just because he can’t fucking sit tight and put up with a bunch of nagging women and his best friends making eyes at each other. 

Sure enough, soon as the iron gates come into view, Daryl sees the red cloth waving in the tower. Someone’s signalling Rick and it isn’t long before Daryl hears shouting behind the walls. 

The gate pulls back and Rick himself comes striding out all sweaty curls and jaw tight with worry. His hands hovering over the gun strapped to his hip as his eyes scour the land left to right, checking for danger. Rick’s eyes find Daryl’s, searching the tight blue eyes, questioning where he’s been and if he’s okay. Daryl dips his head, an apology. He didn’t mean to be gone so long, nothing happened; he’s fine. Rick scans quickly over Daryl’s body, checking for injuries before he nods again. A conversation entirely held in complete silence. Daryl likes that him and Rick can do that. He hates people who talk just for the sake of hearing their own voice, well, mostly. 

“No trouble?” Rick asks finally, reaching out to take Daryl's pack. 

“Nah, I got it.” Daryl shrugs, curving his shoulders away and hitching the pack further onto his back. He follows Rick back in, a half step behind his leader, just like always. 

“Any signs of people?” Rick always asks the same questions. After the shit with the saviours and them assholes with the W’s carved into their faces, everyone’s still a little on edge. 

Daryl shakes his head, “Nah, Ain’t seen a damned soul.” Truthfully Daryl’s not even sure he’d bother making contact if he had, too much has happened to him lately and he’s losing faith.

“You feelin better?” Rick asks. He’s quiet, says the words under his breath. Daryl shrugs a shoulder again, keeps his eyes on the ground. He’s not really sure. “Alright,” Rick nods. He nods again, this time to the bulging pack across Daryl’s back, then reaches out and lays a hand on Daryl’s shoulder. “Get those fixed up then come find me. Need your help with something.” Before leaving Daryl and heading off down one of the side streets that curve around the right hand side of the walls. 

Surprisingly, Carol doesn’t chew Daryl out about him being gone too long. He’s dressing the carcasses on the back porch at one of the (now) empty houses on the street when she finds him. The scowl on her face and the arms wrapped tight around her chest put her point across fairly clearly and Daryl waves his butcher's knife over the meat as an explanation. 

Daryl wonders whether his family’s ability to talk without actually speaking is just something that’s born from being out there, surviving for so long. The need to keep quiet and unseen. Even Lil’A’s a quiet kid, she hardly ever cries. Maybe that’s why ‘the natives’, the ones who’ve lived behind the walls since the turn, chatter so much and drive Daryl crazy. Because they’ve never had to stay quiet or die. 

Carol sits with him as he finished up, offering him a bottle of water to rinse the worst of the muck from his hands and helps him to bag the meat for storing and the pelts to save for the next trip to Hilltop where they’ll be cured and put to use. Daryl has a feeling she’s been sent to watch over him, to make sure he doesn’t run off out the gates again. But Rick said to find him when the meat’s stored right, and that’s what he’ll do. Anyway, Daryl’s bone tired, didn’t bother sleeping out there just holled up in some broken down truck and waited out the night. He could use a shower, badly and a good few hours sleep before Jesus gets here. Daryl feels his face heat up suddenly and drops his eyes to the ground, hiding behind his bangs so that Carol doesn’t see. He busies himself with re-sharpening his knife, Apocalypse 101, always keep your knives sharp.  

“You stayin’?” Daryl finally asks when he feels the heat across his cheeks start to fade and the knife is honed again. 

“Someone’s gotta look after you guys,” Carol says after a few long moments of silence. Daryl looks down at his hands, content. She’ll stay. For now. “Right,” Carol adds, standing suddenly and brushing her hands down her pristine jeans. “Go on with you, Rick told me to send you over soon as you were done.” She squeezes his arm and pushes him gently as he rises to his feet. Daryl scowls at her with narrowed eyes but she knows that there’s humor behind the look. 

 

~*~   
  


They’d planned to get back to Alexandria sometime last night, mainly so they didn’t run the risk of finding a safe place to hold up while it was dark. They’d decided to take a detour when they were about a day and a half out, Caleb said he’d remembered overhearing one of the new arrivals to the Hilltop talking about an old warehouse that had been chained up and worth a look but when they’d got there all they’d found was row upon row of office supplies. They’d taken everything they thought might turn out to be useful and whatever they could fit in the last few empty spaces in the Ford but the detour had taken time and the road block of fallen trees and a collapsed wall had set them back even longer than they’d originally accounted for. So they’d parked the cars amongst the treeline, covered them as best they could and set watch for the night, ready to spring into action at the first hint of trouble. 

Paul had taken the last watch having only managed a few broken hours of sleep curled up in the driver’s seat and had everyone up and back on the road before the sun even started up beneath the horizon line. They’d finally made it back to the Alexandria in time to catch Rosita handing off gate duty to Tobin just after lunch when the sun was at it’s hottest and the road shimmered from the heat, hazy like the frayed edges of a dream. 

Tobin, as usual is all wide smiles with hard lines around the eyes as he pulls the gate wide and waits for the three cars to roll on past, lining up one by one alongside the patched up steel walls. Paul hops out as soon as he shoves the car in park, using the side to lean against as he twists, getting out the knots his back has accumulated during the last, however long they’ve been out for. They’d all lost count, five days? Or closer to eight? None of them are sure. They’d been given two weeks to get out and back and had gone out as far as they could manage before the cars had been rammed up with supplies and they had no more room to grab anything else. 

“Hey Jesus,” Tobin calls as he strolls over, peering into each vehicle once the gate is shut and locked behind him. “Everyone get back okay?” The concern on his face is one Paul’s seen a hundred times over. 

“All in one piece, anything I should know?” Paul nods over his shoulder a the rows and rows of houses behind the walls, no doubt Rick or Daryl will catch him up as soon as he finds either one but Tobin can at least give him a quick run down if any shit hit the fan whilst he was out. 

“All quiet here for once,” Tobin smiles peacefully and starts helping Caleb unpack the Ford, stacking the big tubs one by one on the pavement. The rest will join them to help carry everything to the supply room before long. Paul idly wonders who’s taking over the inventory now that Olivia’s dead; he hadn’t thought to ask before now. 

“Right,” Paul offers Tobin a wide grin, the guy’s cheery nature is kind of infectious and so Paul shrugs off his thick leather coat, grabs the other end of the heavy tub filled with cans and helps Tobin stack it next to the others on the curb. 

“I’ll help the guys unload, Rick’ll be wanting to see you now your back,” Tobin says as he reaches back inside the Ford for the next tub. So Paul leaves them to it, grabs his coat and the pack filled with a few things he’d grabbed for himself and with one final look over the haul they’d dragged back, he makes his way down the street and heads straight for the house Rick and his family share. 

He’s stopped en route by a couple of the older woman and spends a few minutes answering questions about the supplies he’d brought back with them. One of them heads off to find some of the others to help with unloading the gear. By the time he gets to Rick’s place, he’s been back for almost an hour and feels like every single one of the Alexandrians has stopped him for a chat, everyone except the one person he’d been hoping to catch sight of. 

“Rick?” Paul calls as he pushes open the front door and steps into the empty living room. Lunch has already been and gone but he can still make out the lingering smell of fried meat and steamed vegetables wafting through from the kitchen. Paul drops his pack by the door, his jacket folded and flung on the back of the sofa and he pauses to pull his hair back into a topknot before heading for the kitchen and pouring himself a cold glass of water. 

“Everything go off without a hitch?” Rick asks, appearing in the doorway with Judith on his hip and a little bowl of cut up wild grapes in his hand. 

“Nothing we couldn’t handle,” Paul says, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and refilling his glass to the top. “Went out further than last time and managed to grab some interesting stuff. Ran into a small herd on the second day but Kyle managed to find us a way round without any trouble.” Rick nods, once. They’ll go over the maps after dinner no doubt, mark off the route and all the places Paul had mapped out to go back and check out next time. “Hey you,” Paul grins, reaching out and pinching Judy’s thick thigh gently. She curls her little body away from him, snuggling deeper into her Daddy’s chest but stares out at him shyly behind little brown curls with big blue eyes that are red rimmed and sparkling with tears. 

Rick puts the little bowl filled with grapes on the kitchen side and scrubs a hand over his stubble covered jaw wearily. “Carol says she’s teething and don’t we all know it.” Rick sighs, the bags underneath his eyes look even puffier than the last time Paul saw him. “Lil’ girl had her Daddy up most of the night, didn’t you sweetheart?” Rick cradles her little head, pulling her closer and kisses her gently on her brow. 

“I left Tobin in charge of the supplies and ran into a few of the guys on the way here, they’ll get everything back to food store. I figured I’d come check in with you before I grab a shower?” Paul poses it as a question, he’s not sure whether Rick has anything different planned for him now he’s back. 

“Go ahead,” Rick waves behind him and starts back with the grapes, holding them out for Judy to take in her little chubby fingers to gum on messily. “Hey, have you seen Daryl yet?” Rick asks once Paul’s shouldered his pack. 

“Not yet, he around?” Paul looks around the room, no sign of Daryl’s crossbow so he’s obviously not here. 

“Not seen him yet today, he should’ve been back by now,” The lines running across Rick’s forehead deepen slightly, he’s worried about Daryl being out for so long. Paul stamps down the rising knot in his own stomach. “If you find him before I do, tell him I’m looking for him?” Paul nods, then heads upstairs to clean up, but he can’t help wondering what could be keeping Daryl away for so long and hoping it’s just some deer that’s lead him around the houses. 

When he returns to the kitchen after his shower, Paul finds that someone’s left him a sandwich out on the kitchen side, a second plate balanced on top to keep the bugs out ‘Jesus, eat up’ written in a tidy scrawl on a slip of paper beside it and Paul devours it quickly. They hadn’t bothered to stop for breakfast this morning and the only thing in his stomach right now is a stale granola bar and an almost overripe apple. 

Paul finds Carol next and she feeds him a handful of fist sized cookies with a pink hue to them. She seems happier, the melancholy from before gradually leaving her in little increments and she’s baking again, so that’s something. She tells him that Daryl went out beyond the walls at daybreak this morning and Paul pushes down that tiny spark of worry in his chest he feels whenever Daryl leaves to hunt. If anyone can handle themselves it’s Daryl Dixon, as he’s proved time and time again but after all that time at the sanctuary and the weeks after where Daryl had slowly turned darker and more sullen, Paul can’t help but worry. 

“Hey Jesus, Daryl’s looking for you.” Aaron calls to him a few hours later. He’s spent the afternoon catching up on what’s gone on since he left, handed over a few messages from Hilltop and been to visit Tara over in the infirmary where she’d been cleaning out a fairly nasty gash one of the kids had managed to get across his calf. 

“Carol told me he was out?” Paul says, gripping Aaron’s hand with two of his own and giving it a brief shake. They fall into step together as they walk towards the Armoury, Paul has a few weapons to check back in. 

“Got back about an hour ago, Eric said he saw Daryl heading back through with a sack full. Said he hopes Daryl managed something better than rabbit this time.” Aaron chuckles contentedly, Eric might be the only one in Alexandria that doesn’t like the taste of rabbit. Paul doesn’t really blame him, it definitely isn’t his favourite meat either but it’s sure better than squirrel at least. “When you find him, remind him about dinner tonight, invitations open to you too of course, Eric will make enough to feed half the town anyway.” Aaron grins, Eric’s cooking skills are legendary and Paul would be a fool to turn down a dinner invite from him. 

Jesus makes his way straight to Rick’s place, call it intuition but something tells him that’s where he’ll find Daryl and it’s been far too long since they’ve seen each other. Paul hadn’t been kidding when he’d admitted to Maggie that having a boyfriend after the turn was hard. He hadn’t necessarily been talking about  _ finding  _ a boyfriend, although, yeah that  _ was _ kind of hard. He’d really been referring to the fact that having a partner, loving someone when you’re never sure when your last day will come,  _ that _ was hard. Nothing would stop Jesus going on runs and travelling between the communities just the same as nothing would come between Daryl and what he feels he owes his family. But going out there and knowing that Daryl was out there too, well, it was difficult. Necessary, but difficult. 

So he walks, his steps quickening as he makes his way to Rick’s place, waving off the few stragglers that hadn’t managed to catch up with him when he’d made his earlier rounds. He’s almost jogging by the time he reaches the porch and has to forcibly make himself slow as he climbs the few steps and pushes open the door. 

Paul’s face splits into a wide grin when he catches sight of Daryl’s messy head of hair peeking out from the top of the sofa where he’s sat on the floor, his back leaning against the cushions. Paul leans back against the wall, his arms folded across his chest and just watches. 

“‘Watchit will ya?” Daryl’s voice is low and gravelly but filled with amusement and it makes Paul’s heart tighten painfully. “Jesus, don’ yer daddy ever cut yer damn nails?” Paul can just about make out Judith’s chubby little hand waving around in front of Daryl's face and watches as Daryl reaches out to grab it out of the air and bring it to his mouth. Paul hears the soft click, click of baby nails being bitten off mixed with the sounds of Judy chuckling her little toddler laugh as her Uncle Daryl mumbles muffled words around her fingers.  

“You know I’m sure there’s some nail cutters around here somewhere,” Paul chuckles as he pushes himself off from the wall and makes his way around the sofa to join Daryl on the floor. He lowers himself so that he’s perched on the coffee table in front of them both and when Judy waves the hand not making its way into Daryl's mouth in his direction, Paul reaches out and allows her to gasp hold of his fingers. He beams down at her big wide eyes but flinches when her sharp little nail catches the webbing between his thumb and forefinger. 

Daryl chuckles lightly, his tongue peeking out with a another sliver of nail attached to the tip and he picks it off and licks his lips. “Sharp lil’ claws huh?” He asks. 

“You’d be better off finding a file for them, pretty sure we can find one.” Paul offers letting Judy have her hand back and watching as she reaches out and grasps a fistful of Daryl’s hair. He’s sure that Daryl’s about to pry her little fingers off his dirty locks but before he can, Judy drops her head and tucks herself into Daryl's neck. 

“Shhh kid, S’alrigh’ ‘m done now,” Daryl’s hands curve around Judy’s back, one of them tucking under her little legs and he holds her close. It might just be the sweetest thing that Paul has ever seen and it must be written all over his face because Daryl looks up at him and rolls his eyes. 

“Did Rick find you?” Paul asks quietly, Judith’s little face is still tucked into Daryl’s chest but her bright eyes peek out at Paul, watching him. 

“Mhm, wanted me to look after Lil’A here fer a bit. Michonne n’ him are runnin’ out a ways.” Daryl's says, running his hand in a circuit over Judith’s back. Paul pushes off from the coffee table and lowers himself to the floor, pressing his side up against Daryl’s. 

“Didn’t think you’d be first on the babysitting list if I’m honest,” Paul adds, watching Judith’s little eyes becoming heavy, her lids and lashes fluttering closed for half a second before her eyes widen again, like she’s afraid to miss something if she falls asleep. “Where’s Carl?”

Daryl snorts, Judith flinches and pulls back to look at her uncle with a bottom lip that trembles slightly. Daryl just holds her little gaze, raising his eyebrows at her and she settles, pushing her head back into his chest and scrunching her fist closed against the Daryl’s leather vest. The soft scratching of her nails against the thick fabric is the only sound for a moment as she clenches and flexes her fingers, enjoying the noise. Daryl’s voice is a soft, low rumble when turns to Paul and answers with that gorgeous half smile of his. “Kid wanted some time  _ alone _ .” 

Paul grimaces a little, “ok that’s, yeah I don’t even wanna go there. God poor Rick,” He laughs. Damn being a teenager in this new world must be terrible. He notices then the puffiness under Daryl’s eyes that are a soft shade of lavender. “You okay?”

Daryl nods his head up and Paul narrows his eyes at him. “M’alrigh’, stayed out longer’n I shoulda, figure that’s why Rick’s got me over,” He nods down at Judith who’s finally given up and is breathing soft and steady, her dark lashes fanned out across her porcelain cheeks. 

“He knows what you’re like. We all do. At least this way you’re stuck in and be forced to rest.” Paul reaches over and brushes his hand over the back of Daryl’s knuckles, smiling when Daryl’s cheeks take on that faint pink hue they get whenever Paul touches him. “Come on, let’s get her down, she’s not the only one who looks dead on their feet.” Paul reaches out and carefully untangles Judith from Daryl’s arms and tucks her into his own body without waking her. “Shower,” He adds pointedly as Daryl stands and stretches. “You smell like roadkill.” He adds with a smirk. Daryl shoves an elbow in Paul’s direction but he manages to avoid it without jostling the sleeping toddler in his arms. 

Paul follows Daryl up the stairs and waits on the landing to hear the shower water running. Daryl isn’t known for taking advantage of the water supply, it’s not that he doesn’t like being clean, Paul just supposes after going so long without being able to wash regularly it became less important after a time. As soon as he’s sure Daryl is in, Paul carries Judith to her bedroom and cautiously lowers her into the cot where she immediately snuggles down into the comforter Carol gave her and wraps her arm around a little yellow stuffed cat from Michonne. He strokes the curls away from her face and cradles the back of her head in his hand. 

Daryl had told him Judith’s story one night when they’d gone out searching more batteries for the radios with Aaron. Paul still couldn’t believe that this fragile little thing before him had been born in a prison, after the end of the world and had survived so much terror and trauma already. She really was a little miracle child and Paul think’s it’s no wonder she’s cherished by every single one of them here and at Hilltop. He runs a thumb across her cheek and tucks the covers around her shoulders before tapping the little night on the dresser and switching off the main one, pulling the room into darkness leaving only a swirling yellow glow in the shape of stars rotating around the walls. 

Daryl is finished in the bathroom when Paul gently pulls Judy’s door, leaving it open just a crack. He heads into the now empty bathroom and quickly sheds his own clothes, fully prepared to take advantage of the unlimited water supply for the second time today. After re-tying his hair into another high top knot to keep it out of the spray, Paul showers quickly and efficiently before drying himself off, wrapping the towel around his hips and heading to the spare bedroom he claimed for himself those first few times he stayed in Alexandria. 

Paul stops in the doorway, floored into inaction for the second time tonight, this time it’s the sight of Daryl sprawled across the bed, naked except for a soft grey towel wrapped around his narrow hips and covering the tops of his thighs. His arms are curled underneath his head, scarred biceps bulging and his wet hair splayed across the pillow. Daryl’s eyes are closed and he’s snoring lightly in that way he does when he’s more tired than he should really let himself get. It stirs up a sudden feeling of protectiveness inside him for the guy who gives so much and asks for so little. Paul quietly crosses over to the bed and snags a blanket from the armchair over in the corner before carefully climbing in beside Daryl and pulling the blanket over them both. 

Daryl feels warm, still a little damp from the shower and smells like the raspberry shampoo he’s used on his hair. Paul slots himself into Daryl’s body and smiles tiredly when Daryl’s arm unfolds from underneath his head and curls around Paul’s shoulders, tugging him closer with a soft sigh. It’s not the reunion that Paul had been hoping for tonight but there’ll be time later when Daryl wakes after a few short hours. 

They’ll say hello properly, when it’s dark and the house is still quiet. They’ll do it with roaming hands and lips that leave marks across their skin. Then Paul will be the one to pull Daryl close and try to get him to sleep some more. Daryl will chuckle, low and soft as he peppers Paul’s shoulders with prickly kisses. He’ll unpick the tie from Paul’s hair and wrap the long tresses around his knuckles, bringing them to his nose to inhale the scent of their shared shampoo. The breath on the back of Paul’s neck will make him shudder and he’ll turn in Daryl's arms and hope that they can be quiet enough not to wake the rest of the house.

This time. 


End file.
